LJ Idol, Season 9, Week 10 - “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time”
This is part of a continuing story. In chronological order, the stories are:
Week 5, This week, Week 4,
Week 7, Week 8, and Week 6
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All around the world and back, our lives are intertwined.
I know not what the meaning is, nor care; just thankful love is mine.
We dodge, we weave, we separate, conflate,
The warp and woof of life.
I yearn to be a part of yours.
You are a part of mine.
Living on the outside, looking in, life is a struggle to survive.
Held in the center, cherished true, it’s a joy to be alive.
You give, I take, we switch it up,
A lifetime tug-of-war.
I help you in your time of need.
And you help me in mine.1
Kara re-read what she had written and then crumpled the paper and tossed it across the room, missing the trash can by a mile. The crumpled ball landed on top of a pile of similarly discarded pages.
“Oh Hay-zoos Christos on a jalapeno cracker. Crap, crap, and more crap. Pure emo drivel that sounds like an angsty pre-teen with an adult vocabulary. What the frak does a Marine Biologist need with flipping poetry ANYWAY?”
Dr. Hiller opened the door a crack and poked his head into the room. “If I answer that, is it safe to come in? Or should I answer from out here?”
“Oh, come on in if you want, it’s not like I’m getting shit for done anyway.” Keelie turned back to her monitors and started scanning through the previous day’s video.
He raised an eyebrow at her informal tone, but came into the room anyway. He cleared his throat.
“So…. Poetry.”
She didn’t even look at him when she responded. “Yeah. Stupid sappy crap. It’s all crap. I know how to write technical reports. I know how to get my point across so that there’s no confusion in my meaning. That’s all I need.”
Dr. Hiller sat down in the chair next to her and stared at the ocean in her monitor. When he spoke again, it was soft and somber.
“The ocean has its silent caves,
Deep, quiet and alone;
Though there be fury on the waves,
Beneath them there is none.
The awful spirits of the deep
Hold their communion there;
And there are those for whom we weep,
The young, the bright, the fair.
Calmly the wearied seamen rest
Beneath their own blue sea.
The ocean solitudes are blest,
For there is purity.
The earth has guilt, the earth has care,
Unquiet are its graves;
But peaceful sleep is ever there,
Beneath the dark blue waves.”2
Kara stared at him for a moment after he finished. “Well, that was depressing.”
Dr. Hiller smiled at her, a faraway smile. “Yes, I suppose it could be considered so. I always kind of focused in on the line ‘…though there be fury on the waves, beneath them there is none.’ It always kind of epitomized the peace I feel when I’m diving. The world’s in turmoil, but there’s peace below the waves.”
“Er… yeah. I guess I can see that.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“So, why you need poetry... To get through this class of course. Other than that, no one really needs poetry, just like no one needs music or paintings or sculptures. But they sure can add a little bit of beauty to life.”
“Oh I get paintings and music and all that. Those make sense to me. This crap… it just doesn’t.”
“Fair enough. Maybe they’re just exposing you to the wrong poets. Maybe you just can’t connect with what you’re reading. I know a poet that you might ‘get’. She didn’t write about the ocean, but it seems to me that you and she might have something in common anyway. She’s much more modern than Shakespeare and maybe you can get some inspiration from her just long enough to get through this project. After all, it’s your last GenEd requirement. Once you’re done with this class, it’s all uphill.”
He reached past her and typed into her keyboard. “There. Read this, and more by her - there’s links at the bottom of the page. And have fun with it!”
Kara stared at Dr. Hiller’s back as he left, the door closing softly behind him. He was entirely too cheerful, and how in the everlovin world did he know this was her last GenEd requirement?
“I swear, I don’t think I will ever understand that man.” She turned back to the computer.
“Okay. Some chick called Maya Angelou huh? Guess I can give her a go. At least it looks like she wrote in real English, not that ‘ye olde Britisher’ stuff.”
Softly, she began to read aloud, “The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.”3
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1 Untitled Poem by yours truly.
2 “The Ocean” by Nathaniel Hawthorne. (Short but sweet, this is the full text.)
3 “I know why the caged bird sings” by Maya Angelou. (The full text can be found at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-know-why-the-caged-bird-sings/ )